


it's a love story, baby (just say yes)

by schweet_heart



Series: Merlin Fic [203]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Court Sorcerer Merlin (Merlin), Declarations Of Love, Fluff and Crack, Idiots in Love, M/M, Magical Accidents, Oblivious Merlin (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23760811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart/pseuds/schweet_heart
Summary: When Arthur confesses his love for his Court Sorcerer, Merlin is certain it must be some kind of enchantment. After all, Arthur is in love with Guinevere, right? Right. Now if only people would stop trying to convince him otherwise...Or: five times someone tried to explain to Merlin that yes, Arthur really is in love with him, and one time he finally got the message.Written for Scruffy Pendragon Fest 2020.
Relationships: Gwaine/Percival (Merlin), Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin Fic [203]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/70688
Comments: 131
Kudos: 1810
Collections: Scruffy Pendragon Fest





	it's a love story, baby (just say yes)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laahbane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laahbane/gifts).



> Inspired by [this](https://schweetheart.tumblr.com/post/615882251562008576/gwaine-hey-mate-merlin-not-looking-up-from-his) Tumblr post.
> 
> Now with fantastic banner by [@hollywood-movies-and-tv-fanatics](https://hollywood-movies-and-tv-fanatics.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Please do not repost elsewhere or list my fic on Goodreads (or any other similar spaces).

In Merlin’s defence, it wouldn’t have been the first time the king had fallen victim to a love spell. Arthur had been involved in no fewer than twelve enchanted love affairs over the past ten years, the most recent of which had nearly resulted in a civil war, so when he caught Merlin by the wrist and pulled him into a secluded alcove one evening, then promptly began to kiss him within an inch of his life, the sorcerer might be forgiven for assuming that this was simply more of the same.

“Ar—Arthur!” he gasped, when Arthur finally let him go long enough to breathe. Arthur’s hands were still at his waist, warm even through the fabric of his tunic, and Merlin’s head was swimming. “Sire, I don’t—”

“Shh.” Arthur cupped his cheek, and Merlin’s eyelids fluttered shut of their own accord. “Just—just let me explain. I’ve been trying to tell you this for weeks, but you never—and I just…Merlin, I think I’m in love with you.”

Merlin’s eyes flew open again. Arthur was looking at him earnestly, gazing into his face with that same unguarded expression Merlin had encountered so often since he’d first become Court Sorcerer. He hadn’t thought anything of it to begin with, because that was just the way Arthur was, so serious and intent when it came to anything to do with Camelot’s safety, but lately he’d begun to think that maybe Arthur was staring at him for a different reason; that he might somehow have cottoned on to Merlin’s _other_ secret and was trying to let him know it was okay.

For one delirious iota of a second, Merlin allowed himself to consider that Arthur’s words might be the truth. That Arthur might, in fact, harbour some fraction of the same affection that Merlin had felt for him since his arrival in Camelot. It wasn’t so far-fetched, was it, that his feelings might be reciprocated? In theory, that was something which could, potentially, happen.

Then he said, “Sire, are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

+

One visit to the infirmary and a several irate diatribes later, Merlin was sitting miserably at one of the tables in Gaius’ workroom, an ancient spell-book laid out in front of him. There were a number of different ways to make someone fall in love with you using magic, and every one of them required a different antidote; since Merlin had no idea which spell this was, he was going to have to try them all one by one.

“Merlin,” Gaius said tentatively, as Merlin selected the first of his ingredients and began to tear it into tiny shreds, “did you ever stop to think that, just maybe, the king might be telling the truth about his feelings for you?”

“Don’t be silly, Gaius,” Merlin said, tossing the leaves into a cauldron and wiping his cheeks with the back of one hand. “Why would I think that?”

“Why indeed,” Gaius muttered dourly, but he didn’t try to interrupt again.

+

The first antidote was not successful. Merlin slipped it into Arthur’s wine over supper, hoping that everything would be back to normal by the following day, but in the morning Arthur greeted him with a soft, uncertain smile and said, “Merlin, we need to talk,” and Merlin all but fled the room to prepare another potion.

The second, third, and fourth antidotes produced a similar lack of result, and Merlin was forced to abandon his usual manservant’s duties in order to pursue the cure in earnest. At least Arthur had stopped trying to talk to him about his feelings now, but the hurt, confused silence he had begun to adopt in Merlin’s presence just made him feel guilty, especially when each of his counter-spells failed to bear fruit.

“Hey, you,” Gwaine said, appearing over Merlin’s shoulder one morning as he feverishly reread his spell-book. “Leon said you’ve asked us to keep an eye on Arthur?”

“Yeah,” Merlin said absently, not bothering to look up. “He’s enchanted again. I’m trying to figure out what to do about it.”

“Really? He seemed perfectly fine when I last spoke to him.” Gwaine pulled up a chair and put his feet up on the worktable, taking an apple out of his pocket and biting into it. “What kind of an enchantment is it this time?”

“Love spell.”

“Ah, I see.” All of the knights were familiar with them by this point. “That explains why he’s out there demolishing a defenceless training dummy. Who’s the lucky lady?”

“ _I am_ ,” Merlin said, glaring at his books. Gwaine’s boots hit the floor with an audible thump, and a solid five seconds of silence followed before he began to laugh.

“Are you telling me the Princess finally had the balls to confess,” he said, “and you didn’t believe him? God, I wish I could have seen his face.”

“This isn’t funny, Gwaine,” Merlin said crossly, finally putting the grimoire down long enough to scowl at his friend. “He kissed me the other day. Just out of nowhere! And he keeps trying to talk to me about his feelings!”

“And…this is a bad thing because…?”

“Because he’s under a compulsion! He doesn’t even know what he’s saying.” Merlin huffed, and turned back to his research, determined to get the spell right this time. “I’m trying to find a charm that I can use to cure him.”

“Right,” Gwaine said. After another moment, he picked up a book of his own and settled in beside Merlin, shaking his head as he flipped through its pages. “I can see this is going to take a while.”

+

Having Gwaine as a research partner did not make the work go any faster, because he kept getting sidetracked by some of the more ‘interesting’ spells and potions the books had to offer. After shooting down his request to turn Arthur into a toad—“C’mon, Merlin, it’d be priceless!”—or some kind of other animal—“I just think he’d look really good as a donkey, you know?”—Merlin kicked him out of the infirmary for good, citing the need to concentrate to avoid blowing up the castle. He also threatened to hex Gwaine into next week if he dared breathe a word of Merlin’s quest to the king.

Gaius had most of the ingredients Merlin needed to make the antidotes, but there were a few herbs that needed to be freshly picked if they were to be any use. Fortunately, Sir Percival volunteered to accompany him on his trip into the forest, both as an extra pair of hands and as a deterrent to any bandits. Percival was good company, and unlike Sir Gwaine not inclined to let himself run off at the mouth, though on the way back to the castle he did make an attempt to engage Merlin in conversation. Merlin wasn’t really paying attention, too busy rechecking his list to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, but when he did finally tune in again Percival was mumbling something about how, “we don’t get to choose we fall in love with, and that’s okay; sometimes it’s best just to accept good things when the world offers them to us.”

It was by far the longest speech Merlin had ever heard him make in his presence, and while he was touched that Percival had chosen _him_ to make this confession to, he had known about his relationship with Gwaine for several weeks now, and he had other, more pressing issues on his mind just at the moment. 

When he mentioned this to Percival, however, the knight turned bright red and left the infirmary in a hurry, looking as though someone had hit him over the head with something heavy.

Merlin hummed to himself as he decanted the antidote to Love Potion No. 45.

+

Merlin’s life had now begun to take on a new routine. He made potions in the morning and in the afternoon, then administered them to Arthur at lunchtime and suppertime respectively, waiting to see if they’d had any kind of an effect by the morning before striking them off his list and moving on to the next one.

In general, they didn’t seem to be having much of an impact. There was one brief moment of panic when mixing Potion No. 65 with Spell No. 69 inadvertently turned Arthur into a bunny rabbit, complete with twitching little nose and fluffy white tail, but fortunately that was easy enough for Gaius to reverse. Arthur had glared at Merlin for a full day after that one, and he had begun to hope the king might really be cured, until he chanced upon Arthur having a very awkward conversation with Gaius about a rabbit’s mating drive, and when he could expect it to have worn off.

Still not better, then.

At last, Merlin found that he had exhausted all of the available options, save one—the one he had been putting off for last because he really didn’t want to have to resort to it again.

“True Love’s Kiss?” Gwen asked sceptically, when Merlin approached her about it. “Merlin, I don’t know. I really don’t think Arthur’s been enchanted; he seems perfectly normal to me.”

“Are you kidding?” Merlin said, exasperated. “Look at him! His hair’s all shaggy and I’m pretty sure he’s started growing a beard! How is that normal?”

“Mm, he has been looking particularly scruffy lately,” Gwen said, a dreamy expression crossing her face. Then she shook herself. “But that’s because of his feelings for you, not because he’s under a spell! He thinks you’ve rejected him, Merlin. You need to set him straight.”

Merlin felt his jaw tighten. “Not this rubbish again,” he said, folding his arms and scowling at her. “Arthur doesn’t like me like that, Gwen; he’s in love with _you._ Now, are you going to kiss him and help me break the enchantment, or aren’t you?”

Gwen stared at him for a long moment, hands on her hips, until finally she shook her head. “If that’s what it’ll take to convince you,” she said. “But I don’t think he’s going to be very happy about it.”

+

She was right: Arthur _wasn’t_ happy about it, but he submitted to her embrace when she explained that it was the only way to convince Merlin he wasn’t under a spell. Merlin wouldn’t have put it quite like that, but he wasn’t about to quibble with success, and he tried not to notice the way his heart twisted a little as the king pulled Guinevere into his arms. It wasn’t particularly enthusiastic, so far as kisses went, but that was probably only because Arthur was still enchanted; any moment now, Merlin was going to have to make his escape as they started making out in earnest, because destiny said Gwen was Arthur’s true love, and if there was one thing Merlin had learned in the course of his potion-making, it was that destiny couldn’t be denied.

Eventually, Gwen stepped away from the king and touched a fastidious hand to her cheek, which was showing the telltale signs of beard burn.

“Sorry,” Arthur said, looking slightly sheepish, and Merlin braced himself for crushing disappointment. “George keeps offering to shave it for me, but I was trying to make a point.”

“Not at all, sire,” Gwen replied, her eyes twinkling. “Dishevelled is a good look on you.”

The two of them turned to Merlin, who stood listening to this exchange in some confusion.

“Are you happy now?” Arthur asked, raising his eyebrows, and oh, Gwen had been right, the beard _did_ suit him. “I’m not under a bloody spell, Merlin, I don’t know what else I can do to make you believe it. If you don’t feel the same way about me, that’s fine, but you could at least have the decency to admit it, rather than continuing on with this ridiculous charade.”

“I, um.” Merlin gulped, suddenly feeling as though he might be sick—or worse, burst into tears. “I have to go—talk to Gaius about something,” he lied, backing away from the two of them hurriedly. “I’ll talk to you later, Gwen. Sire.”

He almost tripped over his own feet in his hurry to get away, but to his relief, Arthur didn’t follow him. He really didn’t want the king to see him cry.

+

A light knock at Merlin’s door roused him some time later, and then Lancelot’s voice came through the keyhole.

“Merlin?” he called softly, rattling the doorknob. “May I come in?”

“Mmph,” Merlin said. He pulled the blankets up higher over his head, for the first time regretting that he’d let Arthur talk him into taking new chambers across the hall from his own. If he were back in his cot in the infirmary right now, he could have simply barred the door and no one would have been any the wiser. “Go away.”

Lancelot, however, seemed to take this as an invitation, because Merlin heard the door creak open and familiar footsteps crossed the floor to his bed.

“I could turn you into a toad for that, you know,” he said, not turning around. “I know the right spells now, and everything.”

“And yet, somehow I’m still not afraid of you,” Lance said, perching on the edge of his pallet. “Want to tell me what’s been going on?”

There wasn’t much to tell that Lance didn’t already know, so Merlin settled on restating the obvious.

“Arthur kissed me.”

“Yes, I heard about that.” Lancelot waited, and when Merlin didn’t say anything he went on, “What I don’t understand is why it made you so upset. You’ve been in love with Arthur for as long as I’ve known you.”

“Well, _yes_ ,” said Merlin, because Lancelot didn’t seem to understand that this _wasn’t the point_. “And I know nothing could ever happen between us, and that’s fine! I am completely fine with that! But, Lance—he’s not—he can’t—there’s no way Arthur can really be in love with me.”

“Why not?”

“Because!” Merlin waved his hands, unable to express in words just how wrong such a thing would be. “He’s in love with Gwen! He said so! And he’s— _him_ —and I’m…” He thumped his head back against the pillow and sighed. “It’s just an enchantment, Lance. It has to be.”

“Mm,” said Lancelot thoughtfully. “Would it make any difference if I told you that Gwen and I got back together a few weeks ago?”

Merlin’s head shot up. “What?! She never told me that!”

“It’s still new, so we agreed to take it slow.” Lancelot smiled crookedly, his cheeks turning pink. “We didn’t want to make a big deal out of it in case it didn’t work out, but I have every intention of asking her to marry me. I’m not going to let her go again.”

“Oh.” Merlin blinked at him, his mind churning. “Congratulations. I—Does Arthur know?”

“Yes, he knows. And he’s given us his blessing. He’s not in love with Gwen anymore, Merlin, if he ever was, and he hasn’t been pursuing her seriously for years. In fact, his attentions have been directed elsewhere for some time now.”

Merlin could only stare at his friend, unable to think of anything to say. Lancelot didn’t seem to be joking, and it didn’t seem plausible to suppose that _all_ of Camelot’s knights could be under some kind of enchantment. Not when Gwen and Gaius had been saying the same thing.

“You really think he has feelings for me?” he asked in a small voice.

“I really think you should let Arthur answer that question himself,” Lancelot said. “He’s waiting just across the hall. Shall I send him in?”

+

Arthur certainly _looked_ like a man who’d been ensorcelled recently. His hair was several inches longer than usual, and the lack of sun had turned it darker, making him look unkempt in a way that Merlin found decidedly attractive. In conjunction with the beard and the faint shadows under his eyes, he looked as though someone had trapped him in an enchanted sleep for a hundred years.

“You look terrible,” Merlin lied, by way of greeting. “Hasn’t your manservant been taking care of you?”

“He’s been otherwise occupied, I’m afraid,” Arthur said drily. “Driving the entire castle mad trying to cure me of something that unfortunately can’t be cured.”

He took a few steps into the room, and Merlin’s breath caught in his throat. He knew why he had been running from this moment, even if he couldn’t find the words to explain it to Lance: this thing between him and Arthur was so big, so all-encompassing, that it frightened him, and from the look on Arthur’s face he understood the feeling all too well.

“Do you know why I’ve been letting my hair and beard grow out these past few weeks?” Arthur asked, stopping a few feet from Merlin’s bed.

“Because you’re a lazy sod who can’t be bothered to pick up a razor?”

That made Arthur snort, but his reply was serious. “No. Because you’re the only one I trust to get that close to me with a knife. Merlin, look at me.”

Reluctantly, Merlin lifted his gaze to Arthur's, taking in once again the soft curl of hair at his nape, the stubbled chin, and finally the familiar, pleading eyes.

“I’m sorry for springing it on you the way I did; that wasn’t fair, and I won’t kiss you again if you don’t want me to. But in my defence, I _did_ spend an entire month courting you beforehand, so I kind of thought you were on board with the idea.”

“Courting me?” Merlin frowned. “You weren’t _courting me_.”

“I think you’ll find that I was,” Arthur contradicted, one corner of his mouth twitching a little as he smoothed the covers of the bed. “I gave you flowers.”

“You were helping me pick herbs for Gaius!”

“I took you on picnics.”

“Because you wanted to get away for a while.”

“I gave you your own chambers directly across from mine.”

“So it would be easier for you to order me about! Arthur, come on.” Merlin shook his head. “You haven’t been acting any differently towards me.”

“Of course I haven’t!” Arthur threw his hands in the air. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! I’m not under an enchantment, Merlin, I’m just the same as I always was. Only it’s getting harder and harder to stop myself from kissing you.”

Merlin let out a hiccuping little laugh at that, but Arthur wasn’t smiling. In fact, he looked kind of upset.

“I don’t know what else I can say that might convince you,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Is it really so strange that I might care for you, that I could want you to be part of my life as more than just a friend?”

“That’s not—I’m not—” Merlin shook his head. “I just don’t understand _why_. Why me, when you could have anyone?”

“Well.” Arthur toed off his boots and scooted up the bed to sit beside him, the two of them pressed shoulder to shoulder on the feather mattress. He held up a hand and began ticking things off on each of his fingers. “You’re kind, and brave, and selfless, and admittedly you’re sort of an idiot—”

“Hey!”

“—but you can also be wise when it counts, and there’s no one I’d rather have by my side, in battle _or_ in the council chamber.” Arthur smiled tentatively, reaching for Merlin’s hand and giving it a squeeze. When Merlin didn’t pull away, he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Merlin’s lips. His beard tickled. “And because I’m in love with you,” he said quietly, when they broke apart. “If you believe nothing else I’ve said to you this evening, please believe that.”

And finally, for the first time, Merlin did.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This fic was written for Scruffy Pendragon Fest, a fest for fanworks inspired by Arthur's alt!Season 4 look from the new [Merlin Archive](https://www.dalemccready.com/merlinarchive). The fest is open to any and all submissions until 31 May 2020, so you're welcome to join in at any time – you can find more info or check out the other contributions at [@scruffypendragon-fest](https://scruffypendragon-fest.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


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